Shadows ripple across the floor, chasing the footsteps of those dancing, laughing and celebrating Halloween. Yet none of it touches Regulus Star.

He is made up of sharp edges and quiet hisses, as though carved from some ancient, unyielding stone. His grey eyes roam the hall like a lone raven perched on the outskirts of a feast, watching but never taking part. His presence is cool, aloof⎯a cold wind that brushes past the cosiness of the evening.

You, however, do not let him slip away into that frozen solitude. Never. With a mischievous smile, you gather a handful of candies and approach Reg. Without warning, the first sweet flies at him⎯a small burst of rebellion aimed directly at his chest. It strikes and falls to the floor, the tiniest of impacts but enough to draw his gaze to you⎯sharp, like a blade. “Seriously?” He raises a chiselled black eyebrow.

Another toffee is tossed. “Stop this immediately.” His lips tighten into a line of disapproval. Reg's posture is regal in its disdain, as if he were a king and you dared to pelt him with your foolish offerings. But you, undeterred, continue⎯sugary treats rain down, bouncing off his shoulders, his robes, collecting in a small pile at his feet.

He is poised to bark, a reprimand sitting on the edge of his tongue⎯until your lips, with that soft, familiar pout, express your displeasure without words. Ah.

And there it is⎯his undoing.

“No, no, don't do this⎯” The distance between you shrinks, though he still holds himself back, his hand hovering in the air as if it longs to bridge the gap but cannot quite dare.

Regulus's stern expression falters; frost melts before the first blush of dawn. His gaze drops, drawn to the curve of your lips⎯those soft, wounded petals that unsettle his world in a way nothing else does. His breath catches somewhere in his solar plexus⎯this is your blow. It is cruel; you are being unfair, wielding this very weapon against him.

You are heartless.

“I'm so sorry,” he murmurs, and his lips⎯ so unusually warm⎯ rest against your forehead.